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World
framing suggestion:
The first time I went to Prague was in the autumn of 1967, with a friend, on my old BSA motorbike
and sidecar, where the bike finally broke down due to the very low octane of the local petrol. The
Velvet Revolution was clearly breaking out, but it was cut short a year later when the Russian tanks
rolled in. I didn't visit again until after 1989 when the Iron Curtain came down and Czechoslovakia
subsequently split into the Czech Republic and Slovakia. Then two visits, one with my pal again and
our respective wives, and the other as the last leg of a tour of Eastern Europe and Russia by an
English string orchestra, whose promotional film I was shooting. In all these later visits, you could
sense that Prague was becoming a different place, a beacon for tourists and drunken revellers and
Christmas markets and a whole new interest in 'western' commercialism. I don't blame them a bit,
after so many years of Soviet austerity, but something was now missing - the mystery and
spookiness of the old Prague, which is lauded in all the history- and picture-books about the city; it
seemed it was being subsumed under a tide of rowdy youth and tourist traps. So much so that the
only time to get a good look at the Charles Bridge, on the 'Royal' route across the city, is at dawn,
before the crowds turn up and all the tacky nick-knack stalls clutter up the Bridge.
The first time I went to Prague was in the autumn of 1967, with a friend, on my old BSA motorbike
and sidecar, where the bike finally broke down due to the very low octane of the local petrol. The
Velvet Revolution was clearly breaking out, but it was cut short a year later when the Russian tanks
rolled in. I didn't visit again until after 1989 when the Iron Curtain came down and Czechoslovakia
subsequently split into the Czech Republic and Slovakia. Then two visits, one with my pal again and our
respective wives, and the other as the last leg of a tour of Eastern Europe and Russia by an English
string orchestra, whose promotional film I was shooting. In all these later visits, you could sense that
Prague was becoming a different place, a beacon for tourists and drunken revellers and Christmas
markets and a whole new interest in 'western' commercialism. I don't blame them a bit, after so many
years of Soviet austerity, but something was now missing - the mystery and spookiness of the old
Prague, which is lauded in all the history- and picture-books about the city; it seemed it was being
subsumed under a tide of rowdy youth and tourist traps. So much so that the only time to get a good
look at the Charles Bridge, on the 'Royal' route across the city, is at dawn, before the crowds turn up
and all the tacky nick-knack stalls clutter up the Bridge.

Dawn on Charles Bridge

Polished black frame with image floated inside the mount.
World gallery

A3 (c. 16"x12") print on:

Permajet Gold Silk (£26)

Innova Soft-textured matt (£24)

A2 (c. 23"x16") print on:
Permajet Gold Silk (£40)
Innova Soft-textured matt (£36)